


In The Dark Of The Night

by woodelf



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: A quiet night with Sif and Loki and baby Ullr.
Relationships: Loki & Ullr, Loki/Sif (Marvel), Sif & Ullr
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50
Collections: Mischief and Mistletoe Treats!





	In The Dark Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write anything but my own ideas, so I prompted myself something for the whole fandom. Enjoy!

Sif woke to an empty space in the bed next to her.

Rolling over, she smiled at the softly glowing magelight on the other side of the room, illuminating the cradle near the hearth and Loki sitting in the chair next to it, holding Ullr snug against his bare chest and whispering words of love and promise.

“I’m here, little one; I’ll always be here for you,” he murmured softly. “I love you so much, as much as all the stars in the sky.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Ullr’s head and rocked him gently, the look on his face that of a man who knows he has been given a great gift, and cherishes it accordingly. “As much as all the flowers in your grandmother’s garden, and as much as all the bravery in your mother’s heart. And there is a very great deal of it there, you know. Or you will one day. You can take my word on it for now.” Loki smiled down at their infant son.

Sif’s heart swelled with love and affection. She didn’t need to get up, whatever sound had roused Loki from his sleep, Ullr was quiet now, content in his father’s arms. But she couldn’t bear to simply watch; she slipped out of bed and padded quietly across to join her husband and son. She pushed her fingers into Loki’s long, sleep-tousled waves of raven-black hair, finger-combing them smooth and feeling him lean into her touch. She slid her hands out along the muscles of his shoulders and down his upper arms before sinking to her knees at his side and resting her head against his thigh, reaching out to caress Ullr’s already thick black curls. Loki shifted Ullr more securely into the curve of one arm and smoothed his free hand across her head.

“Look who’s here,” he said softly to Ullr. “Your amma’s come to see you, too.”

Ullr blinked sleepily at her. Sif reached out and ran one finger down Ullr’s nose. “Hello, little one.”

Ullr’s tiny fist uncurled from its grip around a length of his father’s hair, and reached for her finger instead, wrapping tightly around it. And then suddenly he yawned, as if the effort had worn him out, and his arm dropped back down, his eyes finally closing.

Sif watched closely for a minute. “I think he’s asleep,” she whispered. “Shall I take him?” She rose to her feet.

“I’ve got him,” Loki rose smoothly, careful not to jostle his son. He laid Ullr back down in the richly-carved cradle that had once been his, and Thor’s before him, spells for restful sleep and health and protection worked into it, and pulled a soft blanket up over him. “Sleep tight,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss upon Ullr’s brow before straightening.

Sif was waiting for him as he turned, sliding her hands up over the smooth planes of his chest, her thumbs grazing over his nipples before her mouth replaced them, sucking gently on first one and then the other, hearing his murmur of approval rumble out of him. His hands rose to clasp her waist as she moved up, planting soft sucking kisses along his collarbone, and he tipped his head down, nuzzling into her hair. She stretched up, her lips trailing along his throat, and he lifted his chin, his mouth falling open as he shifted his hands lower and pulled her hips snugly against his own. She twined her hand in his thick hair and guided him back down, held him still as she captured his mouth with hers. He hummed low in his throat, rocking into her as he kissed her, slowly, languidly. The world was quiet, and dark, and theirs. Sif felt him hardening against her and stepped back, letting her hands trail down his arms until she could take his hands in her own.

“Come back to bed, husband,” she said quietly, and Loki allowed himself to be led, his eyes hooded, darkening with desire. At the foot of their bed she pulled her tunic off over her head in one easy, fluid motion, draping it over the footboard and pausing to look back over her shoulder at him, giving him a deliberate view of the curve of her spine before she climbed up onto the mattress and lay back on the pillows, her eyes beckoning.

Close behind her, Loki leaned down, hooking his fingers into her lightweight sleep pants and pulled them off, Sif’s hips lifting obligingly. He climbed onto the bed and crawled up over her, pale blue eyes gleaming in the dim light, kissing his way up from her belly to between her breasts, fuller now, since Ullr, and sensitive. He settled his weight upon his elbows and brushed his fingertips over the pale flesh and rosy tips, soft and reverential, and Sif shivered, rocking up against the weight of his hips pressing hers down. Reaching between them, she tugged loose the knot of his own pants’ drawstring, and pushed them down, her hands smoothing over the curve of his buttocks as she did so. Loki lifted up, and a frisson of pleasure went through him as the waistband of his pants caught on his cock for a moment, dragging it down before it passed over and his cock sprang free, hot and heavy and already up hard against his belly. He wriggled and kicked the pants off and away, and then Sif’s hand was upon him, and his head fell back, eyes closing and mouth dropping open. For a long minute he did nothing but hold himself above her _good so good_ while she stroked him.

“I could ask anything of you right now and you would give it to me, wouldn’t you?” Sif asked, her voice as silky as the skin under her fingers. She rubbed her thumb against the smooth, sculpted head of his cock and relished the quiet groan she got out of him.

“Do I not already give you everything, my lady?” Loki’s breath was already becoming ragged.

Sif tried to think of something to ask for, something beside what she already had -- her husband nearly quivering with want in her hand, their babe (beautiful and perfect and oh so fiercely loved) sleeping peacefully nearby -- and came up short. “I confess I cannot think of anything at the moment,” she admitted.

Loki’s mouth curved upwards, smugly pleased.

She drew one knee up, spreading herself open for him. “Save for you inside me.”

His smile broadened. “Well, then. I’ll have to remedy that, won’t I?”

Bracing himself on one hand, Loki slipped his fingers between her legs and found her already wet and ready for him. He skimmed his finger lightly over her clit, back and forth, and felt it swell and harden under his touch, Sif arching up against his hand, her breath growing uneven. He moved lower, dipped his fingers into her core, gathering and pulling out more of her moisture and using it to coat his shaft.

 _Norns, he was beautiful_ , Sif thought, a throb of desire causing her insides to clench. All strength and grace and power and long, pale lines limned in moonlight, with his manhood heavy between his legs as his long fingers slicked the proof of her body’s desire over it. “Inside me,” she repeated, her voice husky. “Now.” She reached for him with urgent hands, pulling on his hips, urging him down into her, uttering a sound of satisfaction as she felt the tip of him nudge against her opening.

“Patience,” he chided, his voice a whisper of velvet.

“Not one of my finer virtues,” she countered, and Loki huffed a soft breath of laughter and pushed forward, finding home like a sword sliding into a well-oiled sheath, and it was good, so good, all the empty places inside her filled with his solid heat, snug and slippery and perfect. She tipped her hips up and pressed down on his ass. and he needed no further encouragement.

He rocked against her in the darkness, slowly, no more words needed between them. Sif undulated up to meet him, her hands trailing up and down his back and over his shoulders and into his hair, her lips meeting his when he bent down to kiss her mouth, their breaths mingling. When his rhythm began to falter and he stopped briefly before starting again, she knew he was close, and wrapped her legs tightly around him, her heels digging in.

“Don’t hold back. Come for me, Loki.”

He rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment, both wanting to come and not wanting the bliss of it to end. But he was an obedient husband.

“Who am I to deny my wife anything she desires?” he asked, and kissed her one more time before lifting his head and snapping his hips forward, fast and sure, chasing his pleasure. He didn’t last much longer, his body going rigid as he spilled deep within her, breath ceasing for a moment before he drew in a deep, heaving gasp and sagged to lie limp and heavy upon her, all tension utterly fled from his body.

“That’s it,” she murmured soothingly, stroking his hair back away from his face and smoothing her hand down his back. “My good boy, my beautiful husband.” A shiver ran through him at her words, and he pressed his face into the hollow of her throat, his heart thudding against hers, and she held him safe as he came down from his high, vulnerable and completely hers in the aftermath of his passion. After a minute or two his breathing quieted and he sighed and shifted off of her to one side, his cock slipping free of her body and softening.

“Just give me a moment,” he said, drowsy and languid with pleasure, eyes half-lidded in the darkness.

“No hurry,” she assured him, knowing that he would never leave her unsatisfied. But she rolled towards him, draping one thigh over his, pressing her wetness into the hard muscle beneath it. She dipped one finger between her legs, coating it with his semen, and brought it up to her mouth, slowly sucking it off while keeping her eyes locked with his. His eyes sharpened in focus, glittering at her, and she dragged her finger through the slippery mess running out of her again, and offered it to him. His lips parted and closed around her finger, his tongue curling around it as he dragged back and sucked her finger clean.

“I thought you weren’t in a hurry,” he accused.

“And so I’m not; I’m just keeping myself entertained,” she said innocently.

“Minx,” he said appreciatively, and reached for her.

She shifted back onto her side, drawing one knee up to give him room to work. He coated his own fingers with the creamy white fluid streaking her thighs and smeared it over her breasts, coating her nipples and aureoles, massaging it into her skin. She felt herself tighten, arousal spiking straight down between her legs, and nearly whimpered as Loki’s long fingers slipped inside her and crooked just right. She reached up to cup one breast, feeling its weight and squeezing carefully, wary of her milk letting down. She concentrated instead on the teasing sensation of her skin puckering under the sticky coating of drying semen, and squirmed, her hips pushing forward, as Loki’s thumb circled her clit lazily.

“My lovely Sif,” he murmured. “My lady. My _wife_.”

The reverential tone of his voice was enough to push her over the edge, and he saw her through it, and gathered her into his arms afterwards, cleaning them up with a quick spell and nestling close, sleepy and contented.

“Good?” he asked.

“Good,” she confirmed, sleep already tugging at her as she draped her arm over his and linked their fingers together. Her eyelids fell and her breathing deepened as she slipped under.

Loki lay awake a little longer, unable to believe, sometimes, that this was his life now, that it wasn’t all a dream. He had thought he had lost everything -- his home, his family, his honour, his very sense of self -- only to be given them all back and more. He had come back to himself enough in his cell one day to realise that if he kept quiet, then Thanos would win. That one day he would swoop down upon an unprepared Nine Realms and obliterate them. And no matter how he felt about those who had betrayed him, he had known in the deepest part of his heart that he loved Asgard herself still, from the great gilded sweep of the palace’s halls to her fields and forests, from the cool quiet recesses of the library to the sun and shaded green and sweet, fresh air of his mother’s garden. He had longed for the comfort and privacy of his own rooms, where his things, his mother had assured him, remained untouched and awaiting his return. Where he could close himself away and shut out the world or let it in as he chose, where he could fall asleep to the sight of a star-filled night sky instead of unrelenting white walls and the constant hum and flickering gold of the cell’s energy barrier. He had wanted to let his mother fold him into her arms so badly it had ached, even as he had tried to fight those feelings.

And so he had at last swallowed his pride, and sent a message to his father saying he was ready to talk, and Odin had come, and Loki had told him everything. It had not been easy, and it had been harder still to allow Odin into his mind, to seek out and burn away any remaining traces of the Other’s magic, but it had felt like the lifting of a heavy black sludge when it had been done, and his thoughts had instantly sharpened and cleared, and he had known his mind and memories to be entirely his own for the first time since his mental defenses had first fallen to the Other’s touch. And when Odin had asked if he was still a danger to the Nine Realms, or to himself, and when he had shaken his head tiredly and said no, Odin had said then he didn't see any reason for Loki to remain in his cell, and had gone to the barrier and deactivated it, a small smile appearing, half hidden in his beard, when Loki had looked back at him in shock. He had hoped for something, for the lessening of his sentence in some way, but he had been given his full freedom, and while everything had not become instantly better overnight, that had been the first step on the road to reconciliation with his family and the surprising rebuilding of the relationship he and Sif had once shared. The fierce protective streak that had kicked in when she had learned of what he had suffered hadn’t even faltered when she learned of his heritage, and now...

Now she was his wife and they had a child, and while Thanos was still out there, if he broke into the Nine Realms then he would find a Loki ready to face him with all the strength of Asgard at his back, an Asgard who knew what was coming and stood wary and watchful and prepared to meet it. And he -- he would be lying if he said the thought of that meeting did not haunt his nightmares, but he was no longer the broken thing unsure of his own identity that Thanos had twisted and used for his own ends. He knew who he was and he knew his worth. He was prince and son and brother, and husband and father, and he would stand united with his family and face anything and anyone that threatened them, and he would wreak such _chaos_ upon them that no one would ever dare such a thing again.

But for now, the night was dark and quiet and peaceful, and he curled himself around his wife and he slept.


End file.
